An Empire Of War
by MasterRedcoat
Summary: 2 Years after the Human-Locust war, and trouble has brewed. The Great British Empire has arrived out of nowhere and have begun a brutal conquest to bring Sera under the Redcoats' boots. Delta Squad must once again take up arms to defend the new place they call home from a glorious nation fed by war and conquest which shows no mercy.. Rated M for sexual scenes, violence and language


**Wazzup guys! This Is a new piece I'm writing where the ruthless British Army have appeared out of nowhere and have begun a conquest to capture Sera under Britain's banner. This is all my idea from scratch, like the Cover Photo for it.**

**PS: I only used AC as a category because that's the only thing that Redcoats are affiliated with. There will be NO Ezio or anything like that.**

**ENJOY AND REVIEW!**

* * *

The alarm blared, telling the sleeping Gear to wake up. A low grunt followed by a long moan was heard as a large meaty hand slapped the off on the alarm. The sheet was pulled back revealing a war-torn face that could only show anger. Marcus looked at the alarm, '7:00am' he merely grunted before whispering to himself.

"**Fuck me…"** he motioned to get out of bed when a smaller, more soft hand gripped his wrist, a sleepy moan was followed by a feminine voice.

"**Marcus, honey. Come back to bed please."** Anya had her eyes shut but she still felt Marcus shift from his sleep, her right hand was holding the sheet over her body; she was naked. Marcus sat on the end of the bed in his boxers and whispered, trying his best not to wake the sleeping beauty.

"**One minute Anya, you go back to sleep…"** With this he leaned down and pecked her lips, Anya smiled in her sleep, moaned softly and mocked,

"**Carry on…Sergeant…"** With this she let go of Marcus and yawned before returning to sleep. Marcus gave an amused grunt and smirked at her dazed humour, and he went to the bathroom. After a relaxing shower, he thought it best once he got changed to hit the gym.

* * *

Marcus slowly opened the door, trying to keep the quiet atmosphere and seem like it wasn't in use. He was halfway through trying to slowly and quietly open the door when he peeked around the corner, his eyebrow raised in concern an his thoughts reminded him.

'_**Every day, he's gonna do this every day…'**_ And he just opened the door normally to see the gym's most early and common participant. Clayton Carmine was on the pull up bar and was heavily grunting every time he reached the peak of his lifts. Marcus approached him, and he looked, from the sweat, like he had been here for hours, smelt like it too…

"**Carmine."** Marcus said, no answer. **"Clayton." **He was right beside Carmine and he still got no answer. Marcus got tired and loosened one of the bolts on the pull up bar so next lift the bar shot from the hold, Carmine with it, as he crashed to the floor with a yelp of fright. The iron bar comically bounced off his helmet with no harm done. He shook his head and stared at Marcus like he only just noticed him.

"**Oh, hey Marcus. Didn't see ya there…"** Marcus looked at him with growing irritation and concern.

"**What?!"** Carmine shook his hand in dismissal.

"**Nah, never mind. What can I do for ya Sarge?"** Marcus plainly ignored the fact that Carmine only just noticed him and continued.

"**Why you training so hard, train any more you might pop those arms."** Pointing a finger at his aching right biceps.

"**I'm on patrol with Kharne today, in case the fucker decides to turn on me so I can break his face. I don't trust him…"** Marcus shrugged his shoulders, his voice more gravelly than usual.

"**I can see why; he's a grub. You have your reasons…But Kharne is different, the least you could do is give him a chance. Any joke will make him laugh…And he could become your best friend."** Carmine gave a pause, and hesitated before responding with a rapid nod then got to his feet.

"**Well, if ya don't mind I'd like to resume training. Then I'll give him a chance, and see what I think of him."** Carmine discreetly mocked.

"**Carry on corporal."** But Carmine's gaze was never losing sight of Marcus; even with his helmet on Marcus could tell that under it Carmine's face was most defiantly contorted in a 'I don't trust you!' manner. Carmine took a pot of Super glue from his pouch and glued the bolts of the pull up bar to the brace as Marcus left the gym to find Baird.

"**Lousy prick…Kharne's a grub for god's sake; he'd cut my throat for a slice of cheese."** Carmine mumbled to himself, as he continued to pull himself up on the bar.

* * *

Marcus was walking down the hallway, wondering what could happen on Carmine's patrol. When Adam Fenix's machine fired, only 90% of the Locust died. Everyone tries to figure out how the 10% survived, and more importantly, why 6% of them surrendered themselves to COG services! The other 4% bred rapidly to form stranded warbands, over 1 year, the 4% grew to the equivalent of 50%. And the war still goes on with them. Kharne was one of the Locusts who surrendered to the Coalition, offering his services in patrolling and cooking. Strangely enough his cooking tasted really nice, as much as Marcus hated to admit it. After a whole 6 months of service, the Locust 'associates' (Slaves is the wrong word to be used for them.) are accepted into the COG as battle brothers and close allies. Kharne has 1½ months to go, but proves to be a killer headshot with precision weaponry, mostly his trusty Breechshot. Kharne spoke fluent Tyran, had a humorous personality and took the most extreme banter as a joke. Even slating the Queen's corpse would cause him to burst out laughing. Marcus's train of thought was interrupted when he bumped into Kharne. _**'Speak of the devil…' **_Marcus thought.

"**Fenix."** Kharne said in his growling voice. Every time he finished a word, his teeth would click from colliding with one another. His skin was pale, fair and rugged, the scales on his back marked with burns and scars. He wore Drone armour with Miner shoulder pads. He wore a set of blue lens goggles, similar to Baird's, around his head and has dyed his armour dark blue and reset the lights on his collar and shoulders to Cobalt Blue. The Locust star was scratched off and the COG was welded on by Kharne's hand.

"**Kharne. You ready for your patrol with Carmine?"** Marcus inquired, folding his arms over his chest. Marcus trusted Kharne, but he had to be sure; he hasn't run his full course yet.

"**Yes Sergeant."** Kharne gave a sharp nod. **"I will take care of Clayton Carmine."** Marcus smiled slightly and nodded back. **"Have you seen Baird anywhere?" **Kharne's eyes grew wide and his teeth parted.

"**Um…Yes, he's in his quarters with a tanned Caucasian female, with a fucking great ass…"** Kharne gave a proud grin as he strode past Marcus; he reeked of pride. Kharne was getting used to his language, but swearing was still something he needed a little teaching on. He'd just randomly spew curses out even when unnecessary… Marcus gave a grunt of amusement and continued to Baird's quarters.

* * *

He knocked sharply on the door and could clearly hear 2 hushed voices behind the door.

"**Baird? Open up."** He got a slurred answer; the smart-ass mechanic may have been drunk.

"**Huh…I'm not in. I'm actually out."** Marcus clenched his fist and deeply inhaled, and moaned at the whiff of strong whiskey. _**'Yup, he's drunk…'**_ Marcus thought.

"**Now Baird!"** The door steadily opened and the smell of alcohol slammed Marcus's nostrils and Baird stood there in only his boxers, his goggles were resting at an extremely uneven angle and he had a drunken smirk on his face. _**'HOLY SHIT! HE'S DEFINITELY FUCKIN' DRUNK!'**_ Marcus yelled in his head.

"**You have reached the life-like decoy of Damon Baird, please leave a message after the **_**FUCK YOU!**_**"** Baird closed his eyes, the smirk never leaving his face whilst giving a girly giggle. Marcus stared at him mouth agape, narrowing his eyes at Baird. After a long pause and raised his hand.

"**Y'know what? Think I'll come back later…"** Baird finally spoke again.

"**No man. Stay! We're celebrating!"** Marcus folded his arms for the countless time.

"**What?"** And Sam appeared around the door, wearing only her trousers and bra, she wrapped her arms around Baird and pecked his cheek. She was drunk, but not that much.

"**I ain't that pissed Marcus."** She spoke, as Baird got on his knees and wrapped his arms around Sam's waist.

"**I'M GONNA BE A DAD!"** And with that he held a long kiss directly on Sam's navel. She let out a gasp of embarrassment and began frantically slapping his head, screaming whilst giggling uncontrollably.

"**Damon! DAMON! NO TONGUE! Dirty Bastard!"** With that Marcus began to walk away when Baird rose to his feet.

"**Hey man! You kissed Anya's stomach yet?"** Marcus turned to face Baird.

"**What?"**

"**I said…Have you put your lips on Anya's stomach yet?"** Marcus got surprised Baird was asking him that and began scratching the back of his head out of embarrassment.

"**Well…I…uh…"** With that Baird burst out laughing and jabbed a finger at Marcus's face.

"**AH! YOU HAVEN'T YET!"** With that, out of pure embarrassment and wanting to joke around, he gripped Baird's hand with his left whilst putting his right into a ready fist; to anyone else, they would have thought it was serious. Marcus's lips scrunched up and his eyes were wide with false anger.

"**I'll fuckin' give ya a third eye!" **Baird's smile dropped his mouth into a dazed manner and pointed to his goggles.

"**Uh…fifth eye, if ya count these."** Marcus smirked, released Baird's hand and said in return.

"**Smart-ass."** Baird jabbed another finger at him.

"**Dumb-ass!"** Sam split the two up,

"**Don't worry Marcus, don't resist the next time you get the chance. The ladies love it, in fact…"** she began to trail of and stare at Baird, catching his attention **"…I think I could go with a bit of tummy caressing, seeing as I'm now with child…"** Baird turned his whole body to her.

"**What ya say Sam?"** She grabbed his shoulders, yanking him from the doorway and slowly closing the door and pulling him onto the bed.

"**Come here you!"** she said as she kissed him just as the door closed. Marcus turned away, rolling his eyes to himself and whispering to himself on his way back to his own room,

**"Okay…he's pissed outta his mind…"**

* * *

Marcus stared through his window; his face scrunched up as the Sun blazed over Azura. He saw Carmine outside, waiting at the forest path with a Lancer in hand as he sat on a sawn tree stump. He could clearly see Kharne approaching him with his Breechshot in hand; he stuck his thumb up at Clayton who just stared at him.

"**C'mon Carmine…you can trust him…"** Marcus whispered aloud. With that, as if by magic, Clayton raised his hand for a high five. Kharne happily responded and Clayton put his left arm around the Locust's shoulder, whilst strapping his Lancer to his back. As they disappeared into the forest path, he saw Clayton jab a finger at Kharne and his head maniacally rocked back and forth, his jaw in constant motion, Carmine told him a joke. Marcus's train of thought was once again derailed when Anya put her arms around his waist and wheeled around him to hold a kiss on Marcus's lips.

"**Glad Kharne and Clay are getting along."** She said after pulling away. She got no response from Marcus. **"You know I was just wondering what would happen if he and Masie got together."** Marcus turned at her.

"**Masie Houghton?"** Anya nodded her head, laughing whilst talking.

"**She thinks she's got the hots for Kharne!" **Marcus chuckled at that and turned back to facing the window whilst Anya began viewing a schedule for the 2. Marcus pondered what Baird said when he was drunk, but what he thought accidentally came aloud.

"**Anya, did I ever kiss your stomach?"** Marcus was shocked at what he just said; he thumbed his thumbs into his Jean pockets and braced for some kind of horrified response. He slowly turned his head to see Anya holding the schedule and looking at it, but she wasn't reading it and a large smile cracked across her face.

She began to walk towards the door, Marcus knew he screwed up.

"**Well…"** She began to trail off and caught Marcus's attention when she threw the schedule behind her into the bin. **"…Today's the day you find out Marcus." **She said with a seductive glint in her eyes.

"**What?"** Marcus tried to say as Anya ran up to him and kissed him, her lips consuming him as she lifted his vest top off him revealing his bare chest. She threw him onto the bed and she took her tanktop off, revealing a gorgeous and slender body. She crawled up Marcus slowly, kissing the crease in his abdomen then following up to his chest and finally his neck before returning to his lips. She used their momentum to topple over so Marcus was on the top this time.

"**What are you waiting for Marcus?"** Anya playfully hinted. Marcus smirked and kissed her neck before going down to her cleavage, then down her abdomen to her stomach, there he kissed passionately and he felt Anya grip the bedsheets and heard her sigh with happiness.

'_**Uh-oh, don't pull a Baird…'**_ he thought in his head; too late. He let his tongue touch the inside of her navel and Anya stroked his hair.

"**I felt that one!"** She muttered happily. Marcus pulled away from her and began to reach for his top.

"**I'm happy with you Anya."** He said to her trying to leave without hurting her feelings. As he tried to rise from the bed, Anya's hormones and desires kicked in and with her deceiving strength, she gripped Marcus's shoulders and wrenched him onto the bed. She sat on him pinning him in place and took her bra off which obliterated Marcus's wishes to not go on with this potentially sexual activity. Before mockingly saying.

"**Undress Sergeant!"** Marcus smiled happily before unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them off.

"**Yes Ma'am!"** He played along, and they embraced each other; their cares banished as they skin touched each other's.

* * *

MEANWHILE ON PATROL

Carmine and Kharne sat in the bushes minding their own business; Kharne was resting on his stomach aiming down the Breechshot's sights for any movement whilst Carmine rested on his back flicking stones at the air. They were there for 30 minutes and were already bored.

"**God this sucks…"** Carmine moaned

"**Too fucking right!"** The Locust acknowledged. Carmine inspected him and was impressed with the convergence he did to his armour to sway it into Coalition colours.

"**I guess you're new to cussing, huh?"** Kharne turned, grinned at Clay and nodded. But their moment of bonding was interrupted by the heavy sound of rumbling from a distance.

"**What is that?"** Kharne wondered, anger and fear in his voice. Carmine steadied him with his free hand.

"**Whatever it is, it's getting closer…"** And with that, a massive horde of Locust charged over the field line, swarming in the hundreds whilst growling, snarling and roaring with anger and rage. They halted once they came a few hundred meters over the hill line, revealing a long, unorganised warband. They were waiting for something. Kharne sighted up the Black Theron General with his Breechshot, but Carmine put his hand on the barrel and responded to a snarling Kharne with a shake of the head. They could hear something else coming from the bottom end of the flat and empty field. More rumbling of mass footsteps, only this time more loudly and slower and more synchronised. Marching! And was that music they could hear? Drums were echoing in the distance and the second faction emerged through the green. It was a bright splash of red in a sea of green. They took the entire area of the field in organised and disciplined ranks. The uniforms were clear down the Breechshot's sights, and Kharne relayed everything he saw to Carmine. Red tailored scarlet jackets laced with brown and blue detailing in the lapels. They wore brown under coats as extra protection from the looks of it. Brown leggings mostly covered up by thigh-high white boots, spattered with dirt and other unknown substances. Brown leather gloves and gauntlets made of leather also. White belts with pouches and other accessories, and they all wore Tricorne shaped hats with gold lockets on the left ridge and the hats were brown with a white trim. The entire battalion of human soldiers, yes, Carmine was asking Kharne constantly if he was mistaken about the race, he constantly triple-checked to end up clarifying the mysterious army was indeed human. The scarlet soldiers wore brown neck scarves, some wore them up to the bridges of their nose, and others kept them down entirely. Their mouths were constantly moving in unison like they were chanting something, and every one of them wielded a strange long contraption that had a long metal sliver at the tip.

"**Pikes?!"** Carmine cried confused **"Are these guys fucking cavemen?!"** Kharne laughed nervously at the reference and continued relaying the army, each face was emotionless and not a single hint of fear in their eyes. The music was stronger now, the drums were paired with fifes and the soldiers were chanting lyrics in perfect rhythm with their somewhat inspiring yet patriotic music. Normally, Carmine and Kharne wouldn't be able to hear the singing if they weren't in the gargantuan troop, but seeing as all their voices combined into a large repeating battle cry, they heard their regimental music loud and clear.

"**Some talk of Alexander, and some of Hercules**

**Of Hector and Lysander, and such great names as these.**

**But of all the world's great heroes, there's none that can compare.**

**With a tow, row, row, row, row, row, to the British Grenadiers.**

**Those heroes of antiquity ne'er saw a cannon ball,**

**Or knew the force of powder to slay their foes withal.**

**But our brave boys do know it, and banish all their fears,**

**Sing tow, row, row, row, row, row, for the British Grenadiers.**

**Whene'er we are commanded to storm the palisades,**

**Our leaders march with fusees, and we with hand grenades.**

**We throw them from the glacis, about the enemies' ears.**

**Sing tow, row, row, row, row, row, the British Grenadiers.**

**And when the siege is over, we to the town repair.**

**The townsmen cry, "Hurrah, boys, here comes a Grenadier!**

**Here come the Grenadiers, my boys, who know no doubts or fears!**

**Then sing tow, row, row, row, row, row, the British Grenadiers.**

**Then let us fill a bumper, and drink a health to those**

**Who carry caps and pouches, and wear the loupèd clothes.**

**May they and their commanders live happy all their years.**

**With a tow, row, row, row, row, row, for the British Grenadiers."**

Over and over constantly they chanted these words, Kharne and Carmine shaken by the way they weren't even scared by the bloodthirsty Locust who are only a few hundred meters away from them. The flag was visible as a sturdy and young bearer, who too chanted these lyrics, cradled it. The flag was a large Red Cross in a blue background; the cross was stretched from top to bottom, left to right. The cross was accompanied by a white trim with red arcs inside. It fluttered in the wake of the endless march and the dead wind.

* * *

Even at the hiss of the Theron General and the order to fire was given, the marching army didn't slow or stop. Hammerburst rounds and Lancer fire and other weapon rounds hammered into the ranks as pained screams of dying and dead soldiers echoed to Carmine and Kharne. The march carried on as the Redcoat soldiers from behind the empty space stepped forward to fill the gaps and vice versa until the line became equal again. The Locust seized firing and fear was beginning to appear in their hordes as they traded worried glares at each other. The fifes ceased, and the drums came to a climatic end. The red army stopped chanting and a superior voice barked aloud for the entire Locust, soldiers and Carmine/Kharne to hear.

"**BATTALION…HALT!"** The voice was like Sam's accent but without the Australian tone in the end of every word, what accent was he thinking of. The entire army stopped in its tracks and 2 officers stepped out. They wore the same clothing only their caps had a golden trim and had golden lacing coming from their collars down their shoulders. **"MAKE READY!"** This time, the entire front rank responded with a **"MAKE…READY!"** whilst putting their right hands on the metal grip, the left leaving the bottom of the pike stock and grabbing the main body of the spear, then moving it to their right shoulders. Carmine saw his grave misjudgement of appearance when they both saw and heard the sharp synchronised clicks of hammers being pulled back.

"**Holy shit…" **Carmine was struggling to speak

"**Those aren't fucking pikes!"** Kharne was shaking his head; his voice and body both trembling. He was the most terrified Carmine had ever seen any Locust. The officers both drew cavalry sabres from their belt and held them up high.

"**PRESENT!"** The front rank of at least 200 shouted amongst themselves **"TAKE AIM!"** And their firearms were dropped down to aiming position. Carmine's and Kharne's hearts stopped beating and focused on the Locust horde as they struggled to reload their poorly-handled weapons in fits of regret and terror. Time slowed down for the 2.

"**FIRE!"** The officers swung their sabres downwards in an executioner's manner, and the army's weapons spoke thunder.

* * *

The sudden silence was broken as the front line shook firmly, the sharp 'click' of the hammers slamming down the chambers, smoke plumed from the chamber and the muzzle. The crash of the fire became a cacophonous _'BANG!'_ as the 200 men's rifles rippled rapidly from left to right. The firearms' smoke creating a thick haze of grey smog around the Redcoat army. Carmine and Kharne screamed and clutched their ears as the volcanic crashing of the simultaneous gunfire threatening to deafen them, alongside the razor whistle of the ammunition as it flew by their bushes into the startled Locust warband. Agonised cries and pained roars were heard from the horrified horde, as the thumb-sized lead balls tore through their flesh and hide. They clutched certain areas of their body in agony as chunks of meat were blasted from the bone. Some crumpled clumsily to the upturned ground as a ball tore through their skull. Others were taken off their feet with jets of crimson spewing from their wounds; the sheer force of the bullet taking flinging them from standing. The field turned battleground was faintly littered with dead scarlet soldiers and at the other end, the mutilated corpses of Locust was surrounded by screaming injured comrades and the relocating swarm as it tried to clear itself from the field of fire. More Locusts were cut down by the unknown gunfire, surrounding the remaining Locust in a gory fog. The first army rank knelt down, revealing an extra 100 men and 2 officers with sabres drawn and weapons already aimed.

"**FIRE!"** The violent explosion of the mechanisms tore through the air; more smoke exuded from the guns and more Locusts flung to the ground screaming at their mangled selves. Upon reforming their crude lines, the Theron noticed the well-dressed human resistance was reloading. Carmine and Kharne observed this as well, removing their hands from their ears. Carmine was marvelled by this and instantly knew what the Locust was up against.

"**Single shot weaponry? A flintlock mechanism!"** Kharne looked at him puzzled.

"**Where are you going with this Clayton Carmine?"** Carmine laughed at himself, marvelled with what he's discovered.

"**The hammers, they strike 2 pieces of flint-metal together, causing a sparks to fly into the breach of the weapon, this lights gunpowder and causes an explosion inside the barrel, this sends out a lead ball at a high velocity! These aren't pikes, or rifles! As primitive as this'll sound, THESE ARE MUSKETS THEY'RE USING!"** Kharne and Carmine observed the Locust army, as the Theron saw its chance. The human's were reloading their primitive bang-sticks, and they shall now taste the butts of their guns and bayonets and feel their strength.

* * *

"_**ATTACK!"**_ The Theron screamed and hissed, as it sent a wave of riled and pissed off Locust towards the vulnerable humans. They revved their chainsaws and began vicious Retro Charges. Drawing knives and even discarding their weapons to use teeth, claws and berserk strength. The officers saw the charge coming and had to shorten the casualties for them.

"**BELAY! BELAY!"** They cried, and the soldiers finished reloading their muskets. **"PRESENT BAYONETS!" **and the orders were echoed throughout the army, each soldier sternly gripping the musket stock and preparing for melee. He judged the range and gave another order at the top of his lungs. **"GRENADIERS!"** A group of at least 30 men came forward, wearing the same Redcoat and uniform, only their hats were not Tricornes, but instead Stovepipe Shakos that were covered in fur, on the front was a red metal plate with golden details fastened to the front.

"**YES SIR?!"** The grenadiers hollered back over the roaring Locust.

"**GRENADES!"** The officer yelled and with no hesitation, the grenadiers took large black balls with lit fuses and threw them overhand into the path of the charging Locust. Large and deep booms rippled through the air and Carmine and Kharne ducked at the fear of the explosion reaching them. They peeked over the mound to see a charnel ground. The grenades stopped ¼ of the charge dead, literally. Locust were either completely obliterated in the blast, leaving gore and divots of flesh splatter-marking the battlefield. Or others were left screaming at their highest octave when they rolled around in pain at the sight of their shredded and dismembered limbs. The other ¾ reached the waiting soldiers. Mostly the Locust savagely tore the front rank in half, sawing off limbs, impaling and hoisting the soldiers off their feet, or brutally tearing apart the humans with their bare hands. Other outcomes were when the strong soldiers, mostly the grenadiers, stood firm and rammed the long and razor bayonet into the Locust, throwing them to the ground and stabbing them up to twice more before the grub went silent. The air and flat land of the field was choked with death and bloody screams. 10 minutes went on. 10 minutes of Locust flaying the red-jacket militia alive. 10 minutes of grunts as socket bayonets sliced through the thick hide of Locust flesh. 10 minutes of Carmine and Kharne wondering what will happen next.

"**We need to help the humans!"** And Kharne aimed his Breechshot at some generic Drone in the brawl.

"**No! Kharne, we can't shoot, we're lookout patrol, not sentry patrol!"** Carmine effortlessly said, as Kharne gave in to his animal instinct and locked on a Drone in the fight. All of a sudden, like they entered, the Locust were leaving the fight, fleeing!

"**RETREATING!"** Came a strangely high-pitched Locust voice, as the Drone's quaked with fear and fatigue, either discarding their weapons or sheathing them in an attempt to flee the tenaciously vicious human resistance. Those who were quick enough to escape ducked under musket swings and dodged bayonet strikes. Those not so quick on their feet either winced as their neck and/or skull was crushed by a heavy wooden and metal stock, or felt sharp breathing pains as a double-edged bayonet slid effortlessly through their flesh, severing bone and tissue whilst splitting organs and other body parts.

* * *

The Theron whined in anger as his entire melee group was whittled down and crushed, physically and mentally. His front rank; what's left of it, ran past him in an attempt to flee, he'd swing his arms at a passing Drone, forcing him to the ground and also forcing him to stand and fight, or he'd execute them like cowards. The human commanders drew their sabres once anger and spun them round in a circular motion, their orders echoing throughout what remains of their scattered force.

"**DRESS, RANK!"** With that, he soldiers reformed 2 slender lines, both composing of 79 Regulars and the other 21 being the remaining Grenadiers. **"PRESENT!"** The first rank's muskets came to bear and the Theron's eyes widened in disbelief, as a volley of lead was about to strike his swarm once again. **"FIRE!"** The storm of musket fire came, screams of torment sounded off as more Locusts crumpled to the floor in silence or moans of pain. The Theron's right bodyguard grunted and contorted, his head thrown to the right whilst his body to the left. The general shoved his shoulder and the bodyguard faced his leader. His head was caved in and blood was pouring onto the Theron's black mantle, with a sickening gurgle of blood, the bodyguard collapsed. The left bodyguard turned tail and ran, only for a musket ball to hit him dead centre in the back of the head. The top half of his head exploded, showering the general in blood and bone, the remaining jaw; a crimson ruin, spurted blood and the body twitched one last time before the corpse went rigid and fell heavily to the blood churned grass with a bloody thud.

"**These fucks came from the dark ages and they're doing what would cost us a shit ton more Gears! I gotta respect them!"** Carmine cried, his hand pointed out in shock and shaking his head uncontrollably **"We gotta go, now Kharne!"** Kharne held out his clawed chalk-skinned hand.

"**No…Fuck that, let's see how this ends Clayton Carmine…"** Carmine hesitated, then sat beside him, keeping his Lancer armed in case an unexpected grub or one of those soldiers turned up to kill them…

* * *

Out of the blinding fog, the Theron clearly heard the roaring words,

"**PRESENT!"** The Theron prepared for the climatic hail of bullets one last time before hearing a blood-curdling, **"CHAAARGE!"** And with that, out of the smoke, 100 Redcoat-wearing humans charged forward towards their shattered force, screaming, roaring and bellowing at the savage enemy. The officers held their sabres high, to bring them down like guillotines. The Theron couldn't and didn't want to stop his force retreating. They turned tail and ran, even with hunks of meat blow from their legs, or splintered bones protruding from their skin, they had to try, even though a minute later a long blade would decapitate them in a shower of blood and screams. The general drew 2 serrated knives and bared them for the human officer, the scream met by the Theron's hiss, the officer slashed down, the Theron stabbed up, and a splash of red covered his jacket.

* * *

5 MINUTES LATER

Carmine and Kharne were frozen with fear as they saw a ground spread and marked with the gory graffiti of slaughtered Locust. Each and every face locked in a look of fear and searing agony; blood had permanently dyed the grass red as severed limbs pumped fresh vitae into the war-torn grassland. They saw the Redcoat soldiers walking around the corpses, seeing if there were any begging survivors that they could finish off. The officer stood proud on the ground, his boots was soaked in wet mud and blood, and blood had covered his white trimmings and merely darkened his jacket.

"**This land belongs to Britain…"** He murmured to himself proudly in that weird accent. He heard a pained whine near his feet and saw the Theron general lying there with a missing arm, he was reaching for the officer but didn't have the strength, all h could do was flail his arm weakly at the officer. Blood loss was taking its toll on the bloody arm stump. The officer gave a happy and surprised **"Ah!" **and clicked his fingers to the flag bearer, who instantly got the message.

"**Yes captain?"** He spoke in the same accent as him. The officer pointed to the dying Theron.

"**There, Lieutenant. Put the banner there." **The officer gave him large grin.

"**Yes sir!"** The flag bearer exclaimed, and with a heavy groan of strength, he rammed the spear tip of the flag into the Theron's chest, before forcing it through into the ground. The Theron clutched the flagpole with a wet hand; it constantly slipped as it attempted to pull the flag from his chest. But he eventually succumbed to death. The bearer looked at the officer with a puzzled look.

"**Hmmm…Didn't go quietly now, didn't he?"** The officer inquired, before shaking his head and spoke to the bearer formally, **"Fall in Lieutenant, I wish to speak to my proud soldiers."** Before putting a firm hand on the Redcoat, he smiled and saluted via swinging his left arm and leg slightly in the air before slamming his arm back into his side and his heel into the other boot. The officer gestured for him to carry on. And then drew his sabre before returning to the remains of the army, swinging the sword once again in a circular motion.

"**DRESS RANK!"** The force reformed the 2 ranks before the Lieutenant shouted to the disciplined army,

"**ATTENTION!"** The army stood still, and the general began pacing back and forth along the front rank, before giving a speech that bolstered the army.

"**What we just faced…What we just spent our ammunition, our strength, our comrades and fellow soldiers. They were the horrors that we were warned about; the nightmares that have the strength to tear us limb from limb. That is not all of them, and we won't be seeing the last of them. We have many a fights coming our way, but as long as we have bullets, soldiers, discipline and the Union Flag flying high; we will prevail and conquer!"** Carmine and Kharne watched and listened anxiously. **"I am proud of you men. I am proud that when their rapid-fire weaponry devastated our ranks, when the savages charged our platoon and threatened to break us, the ones who died didn't die in vain! You, the ones who survived, you filled the gaps, you stabbed with bayonets and you pursued these monsters to their graves. You stayed loyal to Great Britain and its army."** Carmine slumped down into a terrified slide.

"**Great Britain?" **He hasn't been more terrified in his life… Kharne continued watching despite being full of fear.

* * *

"**When we reach our final conquest, when all of His Majesty's army has arrived for the final conflict. Our Cavalry will cut them down as they expose their flanks and try to run, our infantry will tear them apart with a storm of Musket and Rifle fire! And our Artillery will shatter their morale and bring them to their knees."** The British soldiers were cheering in pride, getting riled up for their next conflict, as the officer points his sword, tracing it along every individual soldier in the remaining ranks. **"Each and every one of you. I am so proud to have led you here! You have the right to be feared as the British Army! Regulars, Redcoats, Lobsterbacks. I don't care how they call you! The enemy still remembers you for what we're capable of! The COG will be crushed, the savage Locust will be wiped out, and every island, Tyrus, Gorasnia, Kashkur, Irohima Island! EVERY ISLAND ON SERA WILL ALL BE UNITED UNDER THE BRITISH BANNER! RULE BRITANNIA!"** The entire fighting force cheered and roared with determination. All hollering out at the top of their lungs

"**RULE BRITANNIA!" "GOD SAVE THE KING!" "HUZZAH!"** The officer turned facing forward like his battalion.

"**Listen In!"** And the army became silent, grim smiles still formed at their lips.

"**UPON HALTING, WE SHALL WAIT FOR THE ONCOMING ARMADA! BATTALION! FORWARD MARCH!"** And like thunder, the British Redcoats marched off, each synchronised step like thunder on Sera as they disappeared over the treeline. The field went silent, Carmine and Kharne were left breathing heavily in fright at the dead silence. Kharne looked to Carmine for guidance, his hands shaking like an Earthquake.

"**What now, Clayton Carmine?"** Carmine turned to face him before growing angry to defend his home.

"**Now…"** He cocked his Lancer after pausing **"…We're at war!"**

* * *

**Well, my proud nation has just obliterated a Locust warband and are now headed for Azura with a MASSIVE Redcoat armada behind them. **

**Thumbs up for Kharne, Delta's Locust member.**

**LIKE THE COVER PIC? BLOODY WELL HOPE SO! XD**


End file.
